Batting A Thousand

Batting a thousand is basically a term in baseball where a player will hit the ball every time he/she comes to bat. It may also mean success in an endeavor when a goal is reached.

When blogging became my hobby in 2014 it was a means of promoting my soon-to-be-published book, My Precious Life. It was not my intention to continue blogging once the book was launched. However, I seemed to be ensconced in this writing habit and when the number of posts began creeping past the eight-hundred mark, it became my goal to reach a thousand.

This is it…my one-thousandth post on My Precious Life, the Blog.

It has been a fun journey and I have met many blogging friends along the way. Is there another thousand posts in me? Only time will tell, but now I know what it feels like to bat a thousand.

Let There be Light

Here is a tidbit from one of my spiritual journals this morning.

“Light in scriptures always stands for awareness. The soul’s journey follows a predetermined course toward the moment of waking up.” Deepak Chopra. Enjoy the journey. Happy Saturday.

Image result for heavenly light

A Rumble Seat Ride

Only car buffs and/or oldsters like me will know what a rumble seat is. As a youngster, it was special fun to ride in the rumble seat of my uncle’s Model A Coupe. The car was born in 1931 I think, and I came along on this day in 1937. I was all of four years old when Uncle Walter tossed me gently into the outside back seat of the car and told me to “stay put”. (And he thought I would go where?)

And now I’m in the rumble seat again, travelling the final miles on the highway of life.  Although the road has not always been smooth with its bumps, detours, hills, and valleys, it’s been a wonderful journey. I’m hoping my road map has many miles left as I coast along in the rumble seat of life.

One of my favourite scriptures is Psalm 128:6 “May you live to see your children’s children…” I have lived to see not only my children’s children but my children’s children’s children.

Little did I know that a four-year-old me would ride that rumble seat into my eighth decade of life. TYG!

Image result for rumble seat

A Change of Mind

Metanoia is an ancient Greek word meaning “changing one’s mind”.  It seems to me that the minds that can conceive of killing people brutally and mindlessly, need changing. Yesterday’s Bible study on the Book of Acts brought to light the story of Saul, the persecutor of Christians, who was depicted as a terrorist of the times. On his way to Damascus to round up even more Christians and throw them into jail, he was confronted by Jesus Himself, and underwent a thorough transformation. It reminded me of a poem I wrote in 2009 about that very story, and I share it with you now.


On that long road to Damascus

The Lord stopped Saul in his tracks

“Why, Saul, do you persecute me?”

The voice from heaven asked.

“Who are you, Lord?”

The stricken man cried

As he rubbed his sightless eyes.

“I am Jesus whom you persecute!”

The voice from heaven replied.

For three days Saul was blinded,

He neither ate nor drank a drop

Until he was convicted

To change the way he thought.

When he saw himself as Jesus did

His eyesight was regained

And Saul the persecutor

Became known as Paul the saint.

We need that kind of metanoia

In our modern world today,

Let people think before they act

In such destructive ways.

Away with guns and knives and threats

And bombs and words of war!

Hear God’s voice from heaven say,

“These things I do abhor!”

And if we listen carefully,

If we try to be humane,

Then surely metanoia

Will touch our world again.

Our road to Damascus is just as real today

As it was in Paul’s time

May we meet Jesus on the way.








A Year Without God?

There is a young man, Ryan Bell, a former pastor who is questioning his faith. In January of this year he decided to give up on God and try atheism for one year.  His blog is called Year Without God.

I can’t even imagine going on a journey like that, and wonder if brave would be an apt adjective to describe him.

From what I understand, we can give up on God, but God doesn’t give up on us. I’m sure Ryan is on par with the prodigal son right now and I pray he doesn’t have to hit the pig sty before returning to his Father. I’ll be reading more about this young man and his struggle with his faith.

He says he’ll still be blogging at the end of the year and he’ll just change the name to Two Years Without God or A Year With God, depending on who wins the arm wrestling match.

My money’s on God. Even Solomon turned away from God at one time, but returned and wrote the book of Ecclesiastes to describe what he learned. I love that book.

Weddings and Wakes

This month I had the privelege of observing the celebration of life in two entirely different ways.

Both were the ending of old lives and the beginning of new.

One was a wake, and the other, a wedding.

The first was a memorial for a dear friend who exchanged life on earth for life everafter in the heavenly realm, leaving behind her role as daughter, sister, mother, wife; a life that death did part.

I witnessed the second celebration from a distance, but the reality was the same. This time the life left behind was that of singleness, in exchange for the role of wife, helpmate, lover, friend; a new life of sharing til death do part.

Both events were not only celebrations of life but continuations of life. One life had been fully lived, and the other will now be lived more fully.

It was my privelege to observe both the wake and the wedding of two beautiful ladies, exchanging old lives for new, and for each, the journey continues.


The Final Breath

Dying is our final act of life. It was my privilege to be at my Irishman’s side as he completed his life’s journey; to hold his hand, and simply be there for him and with him when he took his final breath.

Chapter Thirty-Two  –  The Final Breath

Holding Jerry’s hand, and quietly praying, I felt blessed to be in that time and space. As his breaths became fewer and farther between, a feeling of serenity came over me, and I silently urged him to let go, and let God carry him the rest of the way.

Moments before his final breath, a single tear rolled slowly down Jerry’s cheek. I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t imagine a finer farewell. And then he was gone. I took his tear on my finger tip, and mingled it with the tears on my own cheeks as I let go of my Irishman’s hand. It was 11:29 pm. Jerry’s life journey was over, and mine without him had just begun.

“….he has crossed over from death to life” (John 5:24)

Tomorrow  –  Trials and Tribulations  –  A Lesson in Perseverance